Happy and Safe
by Evelina888
Summary: But the feelings inside you are anything but peaceful. Your inside world is in turmoil: you don't, can't seem to feel anything. Looking into peaceful nature calms you down a bit, but that fateful letter will stay forever etched in your mind.


**A/N: So I love Lily/James, I wanted to try writing in 2nd person, I was reading a pretty angsty fic…and that equals Lily/James one-shot, in 2nd person, Romance/Angst! Aren't you guys happy? ;) Oh, and I don't actually swear, but I thought I needed it in this fic. Oh, and, just so you know, this is in 7th year when Lily and James became friends, but she didn't realize she was in love with him yet.**

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><p>You sigh, looking out the window into the cloudless night. The stars are twinkling; the moon is a perfect crescent in the sky, and the Hogwarts grounds are simply drowned in silver light. A light breeze swishes the leaves on the trees, and even the Whomping Willow sways with the wind. The one word to describe it all would be: peaceful.<p>

But the feelings inside you are anything but peaceful. Your inside world is in turmoil: you don't, _can't_ seem to feel anything. And this is what brings one, and only one single emotion into your body: panic. Nothing else. Not a single thing invades your mindless stare. This only increases your panic.

Looking into peaceful nature calms you down a bit, but that fateful letter will stay forever etched in your mind.

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><p><em>Flashback<em>

_It arrived that night, during dinner. A lone owl swooped in through the window, startled you by dropping down an official looking letter in front of you, then wheeled around in a great circle and exited the hall again. _

_A stunned silence filled the usually buzzing Great Hall. Everyone stared at you. _

_You stared at the letter, as confused as any of them. _

_You remember, wincing, how you ripped the seal open carelessly, not even bothering to notice that the seal was purplish, with the initials M.O.M on it; how you skimmed the contents. You didn't understand what the hell this person was talking about, and read the contents more thoroughly. _

_As you read, you remember how your eyes widened. How you gave a great forced laugh, which the students seemed to believe, and how the Great Hall filled with laughter and chatter once more. _

_You suddenly dropped the letter on the table as if it was on fire. You stood up, not talking to your friends, to James, to anyone, and left the Great Hall, stopping only at the entrance to check that no one saw you leaving. _

_Through your tear-filled gaze you don't notice James staring at you with a worried look on his face. Then you run, up to the dormitory, hiding in your bed with the curtains drawn so that your friends think you're not awake. _

_You hear them whispering worriedly as they change for bed, but you wait until they fall asleep..._

_End of Flashback_

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><p>And now you're here: staring out the window, trying to make sense of the emotions swirling around inside of you.<p>

All of a sudden, a cloud comes up in the east, and the moon and the stars are hidden. The Whomping Willow stops swaying, abruptly shaking itself out of whatever daydream it was in. Rain hits the soft ground. Thunder rattles, lightning flashes.

And this is what shakes you out of whatever blank, emotion-less state _you_ were in. Your perfect night, ruined. You thought you might have been able to survive if only you could keep looking out the window, but even nature seems against you. You bite your lip, determined not to cry. A thousand different emotions swirl into your body, very suddenly, taking your breath away. You gasp as if somebody punched your stomach, knocking the wind out of you.

Blinking quickly, panting with your chest rising up and down, you are still determined not to cry. You sit up straight, stare out the window. The sudden pain inside of you increases; despite all your efforts, a single tear rolls down your cheek. You shake your head, impatiently, will all the emotions to go away: even the mind-numbing state you were just in would be better than this.

Because all of a sudden you are hyper-aware of everything: the blood rushing through your veins, your pumping heart, the thinking that inevitably came.

And then the worst happens: your breath knocked out of you, pain taking over your body, your mind, your _heart_, you realize it, in its whole, complete, mind-blowing, devastating effect.

Your parents are _dead_.

The thoughts you never wanted to think rush through your hyper-active brain: you would never see your parents again. You would never feel their hugs, their soft kisses on your hair. Never again would you play golf with your dad during the summer holidays, go shopping with your mum, get ice cream with her and braid her hair.

Your parents: one day perfectly whole, young, not a single sick cell in their body, dead, just like that. A snap of the fingers, and they were cold, still, _dead_, on the floor.

The disgusting thoughts make you want to stop thinking. They make you want to close your eyes to everything, to shut down your brain, to forget for a while in_ peaceful_ oblivion. But peace, the one thing you now crave for more than anything in the world, is something you'll never get again.

In your pain-addled brain, one little thought you'd forgotten about surfaces: what if you got revenge? The shock of this idea snaps your eyes open, and what do you meet? Another pair of eyes, hazel in color.

The sudden feeling of hardness instead of soft cushions behind your back makes you realize you're on the floor. How you got there, you have no idea. But you don't really care anymore. All thoughts of life have rushed out of your brain long ago. Not even tears will help you now.

"Lily?" Your eyes, open, still seeing only hazel, widen. The simple word unlocks an unstoppable river of memories: all the times your parents called you Lily, Lils, Lily-flower, Lily-kins. You shut your eyes; it's easier that way. Easier to pretend you're dead, with your beloved parents.

And the tears have come back; they are tempting to break through your closed eyelids. You are not willing to let them go. You are willing to let the numbness come back though. Maybe then it won't hurt as much when you kill yourself.

"_Lily_," –the memories burn again- "I read the letter." _The letter_.

Memories still blazing through your entire body, you push yourself into a sitting position. You are angry. Memories of your anger at your parents, your parents' anger at you, surface in your mind. You wish you'd never made them mad, that they'd never made you mad. That was wasting precious happy moments of time together.

You are mad at James too. But James wouldn't die; she could be mad at him.

"You read it." Your own tone of voice shocks you. It's full of bitterness and despair. A single nod from the boy. "Look," he begins, "I can't really empathize; my parents are alive, but" You interrupt him. "Well, that's good for you then, isn't it? You can go home to your mummy and sympathize with her about poor, Lily Evans, why don't you? Whose parents are dead because _Voldemort _killed them!" You spit. Saying it aloud only makes the horrible fact truer, though.

You turn away from James. "I want to help…" He doesn't finish the sentence as you suddenly whip back around. "Well, you can't, Potter," you say bitterly, "you don't know what real _pain _feels like. Your wind knocked out of you, like this," with sudden swiftness, surprising yourself, your hand darts out and you punch James in the guts. He is blown back onto the floor, clutching his stomach. "That's what it feels like," you continue, malice in your voice, "add immeasurable pain, like this," you're up on your feet now, and a quick kick to James' crotch from your foot makes him ball up his fists in pain.

"THAT'S WHAT IT FEELS LIKE WHEN YOUR PARENTS ARE _DEAD!_" James, still scrunched up on the floor in pain, doesn't say anything.

You stay standing, and tears are leaking down your face like a river. They drip down onto James' leg; and as if he feels them he suddenly sits up, and is standing right in front of you. The closeness is making you shiver. His face is mere inches from yours.

And then, unaware of anything you're doing, you lean forward. Your lips meet his. Your eyes flutter closed, and then his do. And the kiss is refreshing, away to take your mind off the terrible things rushing through your head. Your hands, unconsciously rise to tangle in his messy ebony hair. You've kissed boys before, but never has it felt like this.

There seem to be fireworks in the air; a chorus of angels singing; and in your mind's eye your parents seem to be in the chorus, grinning happily at you.

Thunder rattles, lightning flashes.

And the tears are still running down your face, knees are still weak; James is really holding you up...Suddenly reality rushes back. You're kissing _James Potter._ _James bloody Potter._

You jerk away; hurt rushes into his eyes. But he tries again, leaning his forehead on yours, forcing you to look in his eyes; drowning in them, you can't look away. When he speaks, his voice is low, husky, and painful to hear:

"Why Lily? Why not?" The simple question brings you to a standstill. You're shocked to hear the words come out of your mouth: "I don't know." He doesn't seem to be mad; there is just questioning curiosity in his voice.

"Well then why not? We both know I've fancied you for centuries, and well….." He trails off for a second, and mischief creeps into his voice: "And I think that kiss just proved _your_ feelings as well."

Suddenly you're not mad either, pleasant feelings rush back into you; you feel a smile stretching ever wider on your face. His answering grin brings a horde of butterflies into your stomach; but they feel good. You realize only James can put you back together like this. And…..well…your…_parents. _

Sure, you're still only a fragment of your real self; you won't be heartily laughing for a month or two. But slowly the memories would become pleasant to relive instead of heartbreaking. Slowly the picture of your parents would bring a smile to your face instead of tears. Slowly…..you would become yourself again. You would, with James at your side, you would.

Thunder rattles, lightning flashes.

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><p>Now, 6 years later, you're afraid of thunderstorms. They bring terrible nightmares to you.<p>

Kissing James is like reliving that evening every time.

But it's starting to become pleasant: that one evening brought the next whole stage of your life on.

James is a wonderful husband; Harry is the most wonderful baby boy. You are happy.

Thunder rattles, lightning flashes.

You sit with James' arm around your shoulders, Harry in your arms, and you feel safe.

Happy and safe. And that's what life should be like. Even with your parents dead.

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><p><strong>AN: Whew! Finally done! I've been working on this story for _weeks_! As always, if you wanna read my other stories, you're welcome to! Hope you liked it! And tell me if it was good please.**


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